


A Moment of Peace

by Attenia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 22:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: The anniversary of the death of Legolas' mother falls during the Fellowship's time in Helm's Deep - a fortress of stone, the last place a wood elf should be when they're grieving. Aragorn is determined to comfort his best friend, and does what he can to support Legolas through the difficult time.





	A Moment of Peace

Aragorn  
Gimli sidled up to him, shooting sidelong glances at anyone who passed. “Aragorn?”  
“Yes, Gimli, what is it?” Aragorn was busy, and hoped whatever Gimli needed wouldn’t take long.  
“I – can I speak to you in private?”  
Curious, Aragorn gestured for his friend to follow him through one of the many halls in Helm’s Deep and into an empty room. “What’s wrong?”  
“When are we leaving this place?”  
“Perhaps in a week. My skills as a healer are still needed so soon after the battle.”  
Gimli nodded, frowning, and was silent for so long that Aragorn wondered if that was all the dwarf had wanted to know.  
“Well, if there’s nothing else…”  
“There’s something wrong with the elf.”  
“Legolas? What happened to him?” Aragorn was already moving toward the door, reaching for the satchel of healing herbs he had on his belt. His best friend always managed to get himself into trouble, no matter what the setting.  
Gimli snatched his arm. “No, stop! He’s not injured, Aragorn, don’t go getting yourself into a panic. He’s just… he seems different. Sad. You know how cheerful he always is. I think something is wrong.”  
Aragorn sighed, suddenly realizing what Gimli was talking about. “You’re a good friend for noticing, Gimli. Don’t worry, I have it covered.”  
The dwarf trailed after him as Aragorn hurried to his task. He’d been working on it ever since the battle ended, whenever the healers could spare him, and today was his last day to put on the finishing touches.   
“What’s wrong with him, then?”  
Seeing that Gimli wouldn’t be put off, Aragorn paused briefly to explain. “The anniversary of his mother’s death is tomorrow. It was only a hundred years ago – that’s nothing for an elf. What makes it worse is we’re trapped here, in this huge stone fortress.   
“It’s still too risky to go out, we don’t know that we’ve managed to find all the traps and scouting parties the orcs left behind. You know how Legolas loves nature. Being without it on a day like that would be really tough for him.”  
“Then we take him outside, traps or scouts be damned. I won’t have him wallowing here in sadness and stone.”  
Aragorn smiled. “Don’t worry, I have a way that will keep him happy without being in danger of having his legs blown off. Come on, I’ll show you.”  
Éowyn was standing guard over the door, as Aragorn had requested, should Legolas come by. He often came to the landings to feel the fresh air, but that couldn’t be allowed here, not until Aragorn was finished.   
Gimli paused at the door. “Aragorn, we can’t go through there – that door opens up to thin air. It’s the door below that leads to the landing. This one was built long ago, before they decided to lower the landing a level.”  
“The other door has been sealed off for now. We needed to raise the landing for what I had in mind.” Aragorn went first, gesturing for the dwarf to follow.  
Gimli gasped as he stepped through the door. “What did you do?”  
“Théoden said I can go ahead, he’ll have it taken down before we have to do to battle here again – or maybe he’ll keep it, it makes for great camouflage. Do you like it?”  
“That doesn’t matter – what matters is, the elf will definitely like it.” Gimli strode across the grass, examining the flower beds, bushes and trees. “How did you do it, though? I know for a fact that last week, this was a plain stone landing. How did you get all this stuff up here?  
“You know that moat we’re digging? Well, this is where all the soil went. As for the rest, I’ve had whole teams of men helping me dig up and re-plant things. The trees were awful to get up, took about fifteen ropes and a hundred men each, but it’s worth it.”  
Gimli frowned worriedly at the trees. “Those things aren’t going to fall down, are they?”  
Aragorn laughed. “No, Legolas would murder me if I killed trees just for his enjoyment. We dug deep and got the roots. Getting them properly situated in the soil was difficult, but we managed it. That’s why we took up a whole level, to give the roots space. Look.”  
He gave the nearest tree a hearty shove. It didn’t so much as wobble.   
Gimli sighed in relief, but his expression quickly changed to suspicion. “Where did you get all this? As you said, it’s too dangerous to go out.”  
“Nothing is worth more to me than Legolas’ happiness. The risk was small compared to that.” Aragorn expected Gimli to tease, but was grateful when the dwarf simply nodded. It seemed he wasn’t done with his questions, though.  
“How in middle earth did you persuade any of the men – let alone over a hundred of them – to do this? Most are either injured or grieving their loved ones.”  
“I just told them it’s for Legolas. You know how many orcs he killed, how many lives he saved. Most consider a bit of manual labor a small price to pay for what he did for them.”  
Gimli nodded again, but suddenly frowned as a thought struck him. “Why didn’t you ask me? My back is stronger than any man’s! Did you doubt I’d want to help?”  
Aragorn almost laughed at Gimli’s indignation. “I knew you would help, but while your back might be strong, your tongue tends to get awfully loose when you’ve been drinking, and I know how you like to challenge Legolas to drinking contests. I want this to be a surprise.”  
“Fair enough.” Gimli shook a finger at him. “Don’t let me catch you keeping secrets from me again, though!”  
Aragorn inclined his head, smiling. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Legolas  
Legolas was seriously considering not even getting out of bed. What would be the point? It wasn’t like he’d accomplish anything today, anyway, not with the memories relentlessly battering the inside of his skull.  
He rolled over and had just started drifting off when someone started knocking on the door. Legolas had his suspicions about who it was, but he’d locked the door, so he was safe regardless.   
“Legolas! I know you’re in there. Open up, mellon nin.”  
“Go away, Estel,” he groaned, pulling the blanket up over his head.  
The man went quiet, and Legolas didn’t trust the silence. His friend was too stubborn to give up that easily. Moments later, he was proved right by a slight click as the door opened. He glared at the pillow. Estel must have picked the lock. Legolas wanted to kill the twins for teaching him that particular trick.  
The blanket disappeared all at once as Estel whipped it away. “Come, lazy elf, up with you.”  
“Go away,” Legolas grouched.   
“Nope, you’re coming with me. Whether you do it in your bedclothes or not is up to you.”  
Legolas turned to face his friend. “Not today, Estel. I want today to myself. I’ll do whatever it is tomorrow.”  
One look at Estel told him that his best friend knew very well what was going on in his head. The man sat down on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Legolas’ shoulder. “I know you need this day to grieve, and you will have it, but you have to come and see something first.”  
“Estel, I am not –”  
“Are you feeling ill? Do you need me to carry you?”  
“What? No, I’m fine!” Legolas only realized that he’d leapt up when the man started laughing. “Oh, very funny, Estel. Torture the wood elf, why don’t you.”  
“Since you’re up, we should get going.”  
Legolas rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to win on this one. To be honest, he’d thought that he wouldn’t even be able to stand with the weight of grief pressing on his chest, but Estel had just proved that thought wrong.  
He got dressed quickly, scowling at his friend the whole time. Estel led him to one of the main landings and opened the door – a door Legolas had been sure came out in mid-air – standing back to allow Legolas to go first.  
Legolas stepped outside. He stopped and stared. What had happened here? The bare rock of a mere week ago had been converted to a garden, and a beautiful garden at that. He could spot a number of his favorite flowers and trees just from here.  
“Estel?”  
Estel put an arm around the prince and urged him forward. “Come, there’s a bench just here.”  
Legolas allowed himself to be led to the bench, which was leaned up against an oak, as though it had been there for years. “What is this?”  
“I couldn’t let you be parted from your beloved trees today, mellon nin.”  
Legolas felt his lip trembling dangerously as he threw his arms around his friend. “Thank you, Estel. It’s… it’s perfect.”  
“Do you want to talk?” Estel asked gently.  
He thought about it for a minute before shaking his head. “Not this year.” Estel had made a point of being with him on this day every year ever since they’d known each other. Sometimes, Legolas talked about his mother, or her death. Other years, they were silent, or kept the conversation to light banter.   
Legolas leaned back against the tree, breathing in the pleasant scent of nature. Estel glanced at him, and started singing softly, a tune they both favored. It reminded Legolas of more pleasant times.   
He sometimes wondered if Estel had Elrond’s gift of foresight – he certainly seemed to be able to read the prince’s mind at times, always knowing exactly what he needed.   
Legolas joined in, adding his voice to the tune. He leaned his head on Estel’s shoulder, closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment. The song seemed to lift shards of his grief until the oppressive weight had lightened to a bearable level.   
As Estel put an arm around him, Legolas knew that he would be able to face the coming day, and the coming years, no matter what they may bring.

Gimli  
Aragorn had told him to stay away, to give them space, but it was evening, and Gimli hadn’t seen the man or elf all day. He couldn’t resist the temptation to check on Legolas. Gimli crept up to the door, which was no longer guarded. He listened, and could hear the faint sound of singing.   
He slowly pushed it open and looked around, finally spotting Aragorn and Legolas. Legolas was stretched out on a bench, his eyes open but glazed over in elven sleep. His head was in Aragorn’s lap, and Aragorn was sitting right on the edge of the bench, his cloak draped over the elf. He was braiding Legolas’ hair as he sang softly.  
Gimli smiled and carefully backed out. It seemed Aragorn had the situation under control. He admired the man’s determination to bring a moment of peace and beauty to Legolas on his day of suffering. Gimli was lucky to have such friends, he knew.  
Aragorn hadn’t spotted him, and Gimli shut the door quietly behind him. He got comfortable, keeping guard outside the door to make sure that no one disturbed the pair. Tomorrow, they could get back to the war, but tonight, they deserved a moment of peace.


End file.
